Lilacs and Fireworks
by caseymac42
Summary: This is a follow up story to Behind a Painted Smile.


**Lilacs and Fireworks**

In the aftermath of his good friend Kyle's tragic suicide, Mike Stoker continued to struggle with his emotions. Though he was able to perform his job and other duties with his usual level of professionalism and assurance, his crewmates began to notice that he had grown more quiet and introspective.

After seeing Mike's continued emotional tug-of-war, it was Marco Lopez who had suggested to him that he should write a letter to his departed friend. At first the engineer scoffed at the thought of writing to someone who was no longer among the living. However, by the end of that shift, Mike agreed that doing it might be beneficial to his mental health.

Returning home to his house, Mike robotically dropped his duffel bag by the front door and proceeded to the kitchen. Opening his refrigerator, he pulled out a six pack of Budweiser, and also picked up the notebook and pen that had been left on his kitchen table. Heading to the back door, he made his way out to his deck, where he wearily sat himself down on a chaise lounge. Peeling open the first can, he took a long gulp of beer and sighed loudly.

He wasn't quite sure how or where to start. He had never written a letter before to someone whom he had known would not be replying back to it, let alone someone who was no longer living. Picking up the notebook and pen, he started.

**Kyle,**

Not quite sure where to start. I guess the first thing I can think of to say is that I really miss you, and also that I am sorry. Spending as much time with you as I had during those last several months, I had started to see small things in you that I hadn't ever recalled seeing before. Lord knows that our jobs as firefighters is a difficult and dangerous one, and we do the job because we want to…that it's in our blood, but in the few shifts that I had worked with you, including the last shift at 51's, and other stories that I had heard from some of the other guys…you had started to take some rather big risks at fires and other rescues…things that you would never had done a few years back. I also noticed that you were quite free with your money. You always did have a big heart, and would give anyone who needed it, that proverbial shirt off your back, but you really started to go overboard with gifts to people, and paying for all the dinners with friends. And whenever I saw you when not working, or at a response, you were acting like you or someone else had just told the world's most hilarious joke or story. I do remember you to be quite jovial, but you were never the hearty laugh, face turning red type. I suppose there were other signs, too.

I think to myself how good a friend could I have been to you, if I had seen these behaviors in you, and not questioned them. Maybe if I had said something to you or to someone else, you could have or would have gotten the help that you had obviously needed, and would still be here today…and I wouldn't be sitting here writing this letter to you about how awful I still feel about your death. It also makes me question how good of a friend I really am to the rest of the guys. Yeah, I'm there for them at a fire, working those pumps to help them fight the beast…but would I REALLY be there for them in a time of crisis? If Captain Stanley, Marco Lopez, Chet Kelly, or Gage or DeSoto were to start going in a downward spiral like you obviously had, would I see the signs? Would I be able to and have the strength to intervene, and get them help?

When something like this happens, you really start to question life, and God in particular. Maybe we all have a finite amount of time on Earth. Some folks are here longer than others. And why is that? Is it perhaps that some people are here for a short while just to teach you certain lessons, and then when their time is up…that's it? Maybe you were in that category. You taught me to be open and to have a big heart…to be honest, and not to take life too seriously…to enjoy the small things.

Lilacs are like that. Each year during late spring, the lilac flowers come out to share their glory with us all. Their delicate flowers bloom in colors of purple, pink, and white. Their fragrant scent is heavenly, and everyone enjoys their beauty. But sadly their time is short lived. Those lovely flowers die off and we are only left with the green leaves to remind us that at one time something so wonderful was once there.

July Fourth fireworks are like that too. Majestic and vibrant in color, they get shot up into the air, seemingly at the center of the universe. Each one dazzles and entertains us for perhaps a few seconds, their loud booms making quite a racket…then they sadly fade away, each "flame" wafting slowly back down to earth. This process gets repeated only a certain amount of times in a specific time period, perhaps only a span of 20 or so minutes…and then it's over.

Both lilacs and fireworks have their own sense of magic…and then that magic is over. I suppose that was you too. You were here for only 32 years, and then you were gone.

Marco said writing this letter to you would help me feel better, but I think the jury is still out on that one. Right now all I feel is empty, except for the buzz that I have from drinking three beers. How else would I have been able to get through writing this letter? I suppose in time I'll get over what you did, but I'll never get over the fact that I may have been able to help you, but didn't. That will stay with me.

I only hope that you are now at peace with yourself, and will continue to be so. I know with you and the big firefighter up in the sky, looking down on us, the rest of us will make it through okay. I'll always remember you with a kind smile and a warm heart. Take care of yourself, buddy.

**Mike Stoker**

PS: Chet Kelly wants his practical joke book, back. He swore you took it when you were here that last shift.

**The End**


End file.
